


i'll keep your secret (till death do we part)

by Julziebee



Series: my friend is an everlasting lighthouse [2]
Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Gross Imagery, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Todd is living his best life, Weddings, but i'm muy muy excited so :))), just a warning :), the one video of the dog drinking coffee while the house is on fire? todd, tw- references to neil's attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julziebee/pseuds/Julziebee
Summary: Todd put his head in his hands and tried not to have a breakdown. He’d been working on it--breathing more, in patterns, focusing on things that calmed him, or one singular thing he could latch onto in the world around him--but it seemed to be escaping him. It was out of his reach, and the rain only seemed to drag him down further, hooking onto him with every droplet that fell, even though he was inside the car.~After Welton, and after college, Todd seeks refuge far from everything he's known, which leads him into something completely different and completely welcome. Suddenly, the past kicks out his legs from under him, and the safety he's built around him comes crumbling down.
Relationships: Neil Perry/Original Character, Todd Anderson/Neil Perry
Series: my friend is an everlasting lighthouse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868731
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	1. letters to almost lovers

The trees formed an archway above the forest floor, offering solice to anything and anyone that passed underneath them. The trail itself was littered with old leaves and twigs, which was much preferred to the alternative of actual litter, actual garbage. Just beyond the trail, into the mind and body of the woods, were so many hidden things that you could spend hours imagining what creature could live there. It was almost impossible to think so much, but somehow, Todd managed. 

His bike made a pleasant, present sound as he passed under the trees. He only rode fast enough to be comfortable--he had no plans for that day--and thought about all the living things in the trees. There was this certian comfort in his adult life, that he could bike through the forest in the early morning and think about critters in the woods. He could, if he wished, walk a little ways into town and buy baked goods for breakfast afterwards just because he felt like it. He could nap all day, or write all day, and the only person that might bother him would be the mailman. He found that he liked his adult life, more than he thought he would, and he was content to bike, buy groceries, and be friendly with the mailman for the rest of his life if it brought him this much peace.

The trail wasn’t that long, only a few miles. It went around a small lake near the edge of the town, affectionitely named, “Little Lake”. Todd guessed it was for the alliteration. 

He had begun biking a few months ago, when the sun had come out again, and he decided he could enjoy it. It took a lot out of him in the beginning, but the more he persisted, the more he would look forward to it. He always left at around the same time, and the locals he passed would wave to him as he passed and he would wave back. He biked through the town, around the lake, and back home, and by then it was mid morning and he had a clear head and could really start his day.

Today, he took more time than he usually would. He always took the most time when he walked the trail, but today he felt a weight on his shoulders and a whisper in his ear, telling him to think of what he has and what draws him to it. So he did, looking up through the holes in the canopy as he passed, wondering about the clouds and their relationship with the Earth below them. 

He turned the corner, a gentle curve that gave him time to process the world around him, and was greeted with a rather unpleasant sight. There, in the middle of the trail, was a turtle, flipped over. Said turtle was waving his arms and legs about like crazy, but couldn’t get enough leverage to hoist himself up again. Todd slowed to a stop and kicked out his kickstand, then walked over to the turtle, who quickened his pace as he saw Todd approaching. Todd chuckled and crouched down next to him.

“You alright, buddy?” He asked. He tilted his head to the side and smiled crookedly at the creature below him, thrashing around and stressed. “I’ll help you out.” He knows to grab the turtle by it’s body, and not the shell, because if he grabbed the shell it could come right off, and then they’d both be miserable. He put his palm flat against the turtle’s belly, then slides his other hand under the shell, making sure the whole time that he’s not within biting distance. Not unlike trying to get a cake out of a pan, Todd flipped the little guy over, careful to support him, and then grabbed both sides of the turtle’s body. He walked over to the side of the trail, and set the turtle down. 

The turtle waddled into the brush, and Todd smiled after it, glad that he could help. It was certainly not every day that he had the opportunity to help a turtle. 

Todd got back on his bike and continued his ride, thinking about the turtle and how it got there. What kind of turtle was it? How old was it? Why was it in the middle of the road? He could now afford to think these thoughts. There were times before when worry and panic were etched into his skull. Now, they’re more like artifacts in a museum, and Todd will visit and appreciate them for what they were, but thanks God that they aren’t around now. Kind of like dinosaurs. 

He rounds the last little bit of the lake and then-reconnects with the main trail and makes his way back into town.

The story of how Todd found this quaint, little place is actually quite funny. He was looking for a place to live after college, as you do, and found an ad for a teaching position in a sister town a couple miles south. He always figured he would like the countryside, and wanted to live a life of quiet, and peace.

It was terrible. 

His landlord was an absolute prick and his neighbors were lousy and inconsiderate. It was like being in a frat house, or what he imagined living in a frat house would look like. Dirty clothes, red cups left out after parties, and people who definitely needed to leave would be left abandoned on his stoop. The only reason Todd was living in a house (a large house, but still) with these other people was because there were literally no apartment buildings. Honestly, what could he have expected in a small, countryside town?

The job was awful too. The kids either didn’t pay attention to what he was saying or didn’t understand, and Todd had no idea how to juggle both groups of children. He was responsible for them, and wanted to make sure they learned what they were supposed to, but if they didn’t care enough what could he do? And the school was so small, there were no special education teachers, so Todd did his best to help the kids that needed it, but he wasn’t trained for that.

In the end, it was too much and he was miserable. The day he left, and found his new home, was memorable indeed.

It was rainy, perfectly fitting for how he felt, when he stormed out of the house. One of his roommates, a kid named Roland, called after him.

“C’mon, Tom-”

“It’s _Todd-_ ”

“Yeah, but, like, you’re super good at paying rent on time. And like, everyone likes you cause you clean, and stuff. And you’re good at it. And you’re smart.” He argued, opening his arms, acting like he felt bad. Todd just got angrier.

“Well, that’s not my problem anymore, is it?” He choked out. Roland shrugged. Todd left. 

He drove through the winding hills, which would have been a nice sight to see if not for the fact that it was pouring. The rain made it hard to see, and thank God it’s flat, because Todd isn’t the best driver.

He was only a few miles out, maybe fifteen or so, when he smelled something repulsive and distinctly mechanical. A pang or worry shot through him and he hunches into himself, cautious. Seventeen miles in, something started to whine, a part of the car that's been under too much stress. Twenty miles in, he was stranded in the middle of nowhere, the rain pouring down mercilessly on his car and on his day and, for Pete’s sake, on his life. 

Todd put his head in his hands and tried not to have a breakdown. He’d been working on it--breathing more, in patterns, focusing on things that calmed him, or one singular thing he could latch onto in the world around him--but it seemed to be escaping him. It was out of his reach, and the rain only seemed to drag him down further, hooking onto him with every droplet that fell, even though he was inside the car. His breathing was becoming more ragged, stronger, louder in his head and he felt his body curling up but he wasn’t the one moving.

He let out a sob, an angry, vengeful sob. He left to escape what happened to him, what could have happened to him, not for it to grab onto his shoulders and refuse to let go. He sobbed, wiping his eyes and his nose on his coat and cursing himself for not having any tissues.

He sat there, crying, angry, and completely beyond himself for twenty minutes before his body decided he could calm down. His fists became his own again, and unclenched, relinquishing control. His shoulders rolled back and made room for his head. His chest remained tight, his tears pulling at the flesh and begging it to move, but bodies just don’t work that way. 

When he began to unfold, like the board to a board game, someone knocked at his window, and startled him. He turned to find a woman, smiling down at him with a teal umbrella over her head. She was wearing bright red lipstick and her dress matched her umbrella. He opened the door.

“Your car’s broken.” She stated. Todd swallowed, and nodded.

“Well, yes, ma’am, I can see that--I don’t mean to be disrespectful--”  
“No, no, you’re fine. I just,” She hummed. “I wish I had pants on. I could have taken a look at your engine, seen what’s what.” She said thoughtfully. She smiled down at him again. “Well, what do you say we go up over that there hill and into town, and we can ask about the mechanic. Sound alright by you?” She asked. Todd nodded, there really wasn’t anything else he could do.

He got out of his car, locked it, and pocketed the keys, following this strange woman with blood red lips over the hill in the road. She seemed decent enough, and at this point, nothing could make his day worse. They trotted up the hill, closer than strangers would be if it wasn’t raining, and there was only one umbrella. Just beyond the hill was a village that looked straight out of a modern fairytale. There was one main road, and you could tell it was the main road just by looking at it; all the shops were there. There was a bakery, and grocery store, a bank, and post office, and everything was a nice, light color. The town just seemed to shout “happy,” to any person that passed through--or in Todd’s case, needed a mechanic. 

Once they got onto the sidewalk that ran alongside the shopfront, the strange woman took his elbow. Todd stiffened, but she didn’t seem to notice. The people in the stores waved at them as they walked past, and she waved back smiling. They even stopped at one point to talk to the florist. 

Miraculous, how a town could still seem so happy in the middle of a storm. 

Towards the end of the road was a red garage with hydrangeas out front. It was the same height as all the other stores, but stood out due to the loud red of the garage door. Todd would have thought it was the firestation if the woman he was with hadn’t informed him that it was, actually, the mechanic. 

When they arrived, Todd noticed that there was no door for them to knock on, or ring the bell. This wasn’t a problem, because the woman handed him the umbrella and stepped right up to the garage, before pounding on it mercilously. 

“Woah,” Todd gasped. “What are you doing!?” The woman stopped and turned around.

“He’s deaf in one ear. The rain’s loud.” She explained it like he was already supposed to know that. Todd still couldn’t figure out if he liked her or not. 

A mechanical rumbling began, and the garage started to open. As it did, a lean man in his late fifties walked out of the garage. He had striking blue eyes and red-tan skin, showing how often he worked outside. He had an easy smile, however, that took up most of his face, and grey hair. He smiled at the woman.

“Sadie,” He called. Sadie, her name is Sadie. “You need a hand?” He chuckled. Sadie nodded.

“Yes, my friend here, uh--”

“Todd.”

“Todd! Todd’s car broke down just over the hill. You think you could take five and help us?” She asked. The man nodded.

“Not a problem,” He directed his attention at Todd. “Hey kid. Where you from?” He walked over, a lazy amble, and shook Todd’s hand. The strength of the handshake surprised Todd, and it must have shown on his face because the other man laughed. “Paul, nice to meet you. Let’s take a look at your car, huh? Get you out of here?” 

On the way back over the hill, Todd explained his situation to his two new friends. Without giving away too much of his backstory, he’d explained Welton, and his need to get away, and how today had been one of the worst days of his life and he felt really defeated. Sadie kept interrupting him, but Paul was a good listener. Once he’d finished his story, he heard Paul sigh. 

“I’ll make sure we get your car fixed,” he shook his head. “How old are you?”

“Twenty three,” He answered. Paul sighed again.

“Twenty three,” He paused as they got to the car. “Too young. Let’s take a look at this beaut, huh?” He immediately got to work on the car, and within five minutes understood what was wrong.

“Sade, you could have figured this out. The battery’s dead, and the breaks need to be replaced.” He looked up at the two of them. “I can fix it for you. Free of charge,” He added after a second. Sadie hummed, then turned to Todd.

“Tell you what,” She said. “I run the hotel. I’ll give you a place to stay for tonight and tomorrow you can be on your way.” She offered. 

Todd could’ve cried again, but he managed to keep it in. 

He looks back at this memory fondly, as one of the best days in his life. In the moment, he was scared and confused, but he gained friends and a home. After his car was fixed, he asked Sadie if he might be able to stay in town. She showed him a small house a little ways out from town, and Todd immediately said yes. He called his parents, explained the situaiton, and they happily agreed to help him move in and buy the house. It was one of the best descisions he ever made.

This took him to now, as he passed Paul’s shop, and waved to him as he watered the flowers out front. He waved to everyone he saw, because he’d grown to know them all in the past couple years. Eventually, Todd knew he would end up in a city, but he also had a feeling he would be readily welcomed back into this town if he ever wanted to come back. 

He biked along the main road and then out to his house, which was big enough for just him, and that was all he needed. He parked his bike outside the little fence, then unlatched the gate and went inside. He grabbed a glass of water, then began to make breakfast. The smell of pancakes began to float through the air, and Todd smiled to himself as he reached across the counter to turn the radio on. I Want To Hold Your Hand is playing, and he smiles as hums along and cooks. Then, there’s a knock on his door.

“Come in,” He calls. Everyone who lives around here is a friend, and he loves not having to worry about people at the door. Loves being totally relaxed, for once. 

“Hello,” Alfie greets. Alfie is the mailman. He’s got bright red hair and a tooth gap, accompanied by a crooked grin. He’s a character Todd would write in a story, but Todd loves his company and is always delighted to see him.

“Would you like a pancake? I’ve only got a few left to make,” Todd asks. Alfie smiles and sits down at the table.

“I saw you biking earlier,” Alfie comments, crossing his legs and leaning back. Todd smiles to himself.

“Yeah, well, I bike everyday.” He pauses. “I helped a turtle today. Poor thing was on it’s back in the middle of the trail, so I flipped him over and sent him on his way.” Todd explains. Alfie smiles at the back of his head.

“That’s awful kind of you, Anderson. Did he thank you?” Alfie jokes. Todd chuckles and sits down, two plates of pancakes for him and his friend. 

“I’m sure he would if he was able to speak.” 

“I’m not sure if turtles can even think,” Aflie muses as he takes a bite. “Oh! Todd. Letter.” He reaches into his bag and grabs a small envelope, and hands it to Todd. Todd sets it on the table, and doesn’t look who sent it. It’s good that he didn’t. If he had while Alfie was there, it would have been embarrasing. 

They eat their breakfast, and his friend leaves to continue his job. Todd smiles to himself as he washes the dishes, and almost forgets about the letter until he turns around and sees it abandoned on the table. He reaches for it, and has to do a double take before opening it with shaky hands.

_Todd Anderson_  
_236, Second St._  
_Bluefield, VA, 24506_

_Neil Perry_  
_42506, 7th Ave, #3_  
_New York, New York, 11209_

The contents of the letter are as follows:

  
_Dear, Todd Anderson_ (this was in Neil’s handwriting), 

_You are invtied to Neil and Sara’s Lovely, Little Wedding!_  
_The event is to be at Niagra Falls on the Seventeeth of November._  
_Reception: 4:30-6:30_  
_Dinner: 6:45-8:00_  
_Please RSVP if you can make it!_  
(And then, a note in Neil’s pen, again.)  
_Todd--would you be my best man? I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to be right by my side when I get married. Please write back as soon as you can._  
_Neil._  


Todd didn’t know what to do. The card was lovely--there was some sort of material on it that shined in the mid-morning light, and a beautiful picture of Neil, and this girl Sara. Todd had never met Sara, he didn’t know she existed. She was gorgeous, and had shoulder-length curly blonde hair and killer smile. They were both smiling, in Times Square in the middle of winter. The buildings around them looked like they were on fire with all of the lights and advertisements. Todd could feel the photo. He could smell it, and he could hear it. His heart ached for the city, but also for his friend.

Neil was glowing. He looked so, unbeliveably happy, in this huge city with this girl that was unknown to Todd, and now, quite literally, he was wanted back in the picture. 

His first response was anger. This is the first he’d heard from his friend since they left Welton. They had been through hell and back, and Todd expected Neil to reach out to him within the first week they left. Which turned into the next month.

Which turned into the next three months. Six, nine, then a year. Todd gave up shortly after that, thinking if Neil didn’t want to talk to him, then he wouldn’t reach out either. 

His second response was guilt. How could he be angry? He had seen Neil at his absolute worst, and now he was being invited back into his life. His new, happy life. Neil was happy, and when Todd was younger, that was the only thing he cared about, Neil being happy. Now that it had come, Todd was angry that he wasn’t a part of it. How selfish, how cruel of him. The guilt bloomed in his chest and spread throughout his body like paint would on an already wet sheet of paper. 

His third response was a short, quick letter back, confirming his attendance at Neil’s wedding, and to let him know what to do in order to be the best man. When Alfie came by the next morning, Todd was there waiting for him. He handed him the letter and didn’t stick around to chat.


	2. i've only tasted it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prospect. Todd thinks. An extensive view; responds Merriam Webster, a mental consideration.

Water bit at the sides of the boat, angry and vengeful. The sky was dark with fury, rumbling and billowing and completely blocking out any hopes of an escape. The ship creaked with each new assault from the waves and threatened to give up at any second. The captain barked orders, and the men, in their height of adrenaline, tried the best they could to do as they were told. The storm had been following them, just on the horizon, for days. They should have seen it coming.

A giant hand slices through the clouds, bleeding light and power. The hand holds a simple, marble staff, with flecks of gold sprinkled throughout it. The hand is connected to a body, the body of a goddess. Tyche, in all her glory, slices through the storm, challenging it’s fervor. 

Why she was angry, the ship did not know. They did know, however, that her anger was fixed upon them and the staff was whipping through the sky and towards them, fast. Some men screamed, and abandoned their positions. Some men froze in place, either transfixed and not quite believing what they were seeing, or fearing for their lives. Others, smarter, better men, took the risk to jump off the side of the boat and into the swallowing waters, hoping for solace there. 

Toon soon, the staff swipes across the ship with a loud crack, the main mast folding in half like a sheet of paper. The sails may have fluttered down if it weren’t for the rain, but instead fell fast and heavy as they smacked down onto the rapidly splitting deck, suffocating and successfully burying any poor soul trapped underneath the wet fabric. The staff comes up again, and cracks down the middle of the ship. The impact of the blow rockets the survivors off the ship and into the water below.

He hits the water hard, the sting of the fall seeping into his skin. His head is a dead weight, and his limbs don’t seem to be responding to his brain. He wants to fight it, to swim to the surface and see if he can find a piece of wood to hold onto, but he’s just so tired. His ears begin to ring, and he really, truly can’t breathe. The ringing gets stronger, more powerful, until the only thing he can hear is a shrill scream that seems to be only in his head.

He awakes with a start, gasping for air, only to discover he’d been sleeping face-down into the pillow. The alarm clock next to Todd screams for attention, and he grumbles as he bats at it, hoping one hit will land and turn the damn thing off. It’s 4:30 in the morning. The sky is still dark, leaning on its last legs and waiting for the morning to come and truly sweep it off its feet. Todd is exhausted, and still desperately trying to catch his breath. 

Never mind all of that; he has a plane to catch. 

Todd hops out of bed and takes a quick shower: he brushes his teeth, his hair, and packs up his toiletries. He gets dressed, eats a quick breakfast of cereal, and leaves a note for Sadie instructing her on what to do around the house while he’s gone. 

_“I’m terrible at being responsible.” She argued._

_“You run a hotel. What’s one extra room?” He bargained. She pretended to think it over.  
“Well. Alright, fine. But you owe me a favor,” She reasoned._

_“Of course,” He’d laughed._

His suitcase is already waiting by the door. Todd checks his pockets again to make sure he has his wallet and his keys before he steps out the door, locks it, and walks down the hill to his car. He loads the suitcase in the back, and sits in the driver's seat. 

He looks back up at his little house. Quiet, sweet and friendly. For the two and half years he’d lived there so far, he hadn’t needed to worry about New England and everything that called him back there. The crisp freshness of the country nearly drugged him into forgetting he had a past life at all. That, he supposes, is why people don’t leave their little towns. He looks back down at the steering wheel in front of him, and back at the house. He takes a deep breath and puts the key into the ignition. 

\-- --

Todd was sat in a little blue chair with a sand-coloured plastic outlining the headrest and the seat itself. His chair was connected to all the other chairs, which were in a neat row overlooking the airfield and the runways. It was still dark out, but the sun was just beginning to peak out over the edge of the Earth and greet it. Todd sat, bagel in hand, and watched the sun rise. 

He was nervous. Reasonably so.

Todd hadn’t seen Neil in nearly seven years. That’s almost a decade, and a lot of time for someone to completely change. And the thing is, Neil was starving for change. You could see it in the hollow of his cheeks, the sinking of his eyes, the defeat sewn into his shoulders as he was driven away from the theatre. Everything about the boy from Welton was fake, built up as a sculpture, fixed to be everything his father wasn’t able to. Todd had the privilege to learn Neil, to understand Neil, and to watch this shell of a boy find something that was legitimately and ultimately his, something he’d never had before. Todd watched him fight his way into existence, and he’ll be damned if he missed another renaissance. 

Lucky for Todd, he already knows he’s damned. He’s known he’s damned since he read the name on the return address a couple weeks ago. Damnation doesn’t sound so horrible anymore, anyways. 

His flight is called, and he stands up to board the plane. Walking across the tube-thingy to get to the airplane itself almost feels like a rite of passage, a reassurance that he was making a step in the right direction, that maybe connecting with his past self may not be such a horrifying thing after all. 

He was fortunate to get a window seat. Todd, ever the romantic, loves to look out the window and daydream, whether it be from his home, the car, the train, or in this very special case, the airplane. As he looks out, the sky is beginning to phase into it’s familiar blue, streaks of pink clouds, a sweet contrast. He pulls down the little table on the back of the seat in front of him and grabs his journal from his bag. He quickly doodles what he can see out the window, and leaves a little note that talks about the colors of the sky and how he thinks they might reflect on his eyes. He starts to shade his doodle when he is interrupted by the stewardess. 

“Sir, please buckle your seat belt. We’re about to take off.”

\-- --

The plane lands a few hours later, and by the time Todd gets through customs and his luggage, it’s mid morning. He can almost sense he’s in New England just by the smell and feel of the airport. What he doesn’t sense is a certain Charlie Dalton, waiting for him just outside the entrance. He’s leaning against, presumably, his car, sunglasses perched on his nose. Todd completely freezes where he is and gapes at the boy--no, he’s no longer a boy--in front of him.

“Anderson,” Charlie calls. He rests his sunglasses in his hair and moves to greet Todd. 

“Charlie,” Todd’s face breaks into a smile. “Charlie, how--” The rest of the words are muffled into Charlie’s shirt as he smothers Todd in a bone-crushing hug. Todd hugs back with the same severity. Other than Neil, Charlie was Todd’s best friend. Charlie, though he initiated the hug, pulls back first. He takes a good look at Todd, who’s in a sweater and jeans, hair a little longer and skin a little warmer. All in all, he’s a little more himself.

“It’s good to see you.” Is all Charlie offers as an explanation. Smirking, he jerks his head back towards the car. “I know it’s a lot to take in. My body, my face, my hair--believe me, I know. But if you stay here and gape at me all day, I don’t think Neil will be that happy.” He teases. Todd’s smile grows, and the two men walk the twenty feet back to Charlie’s car.

“So,” Todd begins as they’re pulling out of the airport parking lot. “How have you been?”

“Oh, just fine. Y’know. Didn’t move out of Delaware even though I really fucking want to,” Charlie sighs and glances at his friend. “Think I could come back with you? You look like a whole different man.”

“I think I am,” Todd reasoned. “I think I understand things a little bit better.” Another pause.

“Things?” 

“Yeah. Things.” It’s a complete lie. He _thought_ he understood “things” a little bit better until that letter showed up on his kitchen table. “Things” was as broad as it gets, but it was the only descriptor that really worked, because in the country Todd discovered that quiet nights led to lonely thoughts and a whole lot of self reflection. 

Which isn’t really a bad thing, in this case. 

Todd _learned_ to love the quiet. As a kid, it scared him, and as a teenager, it suffocated him. As an adult, who had been scared, who had a hard time catching his breath and catching a break, he really did learn to appreciate the quiet. Todd _learned_ to love the morning, having a routine. Nothing unexpected (or so he’d thought) could jump at him then, because he always woke up at seven thirty (nine on Sundays), he regularly had pancakes for breakfast, and he always took a bike ride after breakfast. Now, he’s learning, that perhaps he shouldn’t have been so naive in thinking that if he built up his own little world, nothing would crawl through from the past one and destroy his new calm and regularity. 

“Alright,” Charlie nods to himself. “Things. What things?”

“Uh--well, you know. Anything that you or Pitts or Knox have been trying to figure out. Or Meeks.” Charlie smiles at his name. “Or even Neil for that matter. Just growing up things.”

“I’ll get some booze in you, and maybe then you’ll actually tell me what you’ve been doing for nearly a decade.”

When put like that, it did make Todd sound a little ridiculous. 

“I studied at Richmond, and then I found a house in a town that I like.”

“Not cutting it. Whiskey might, though.”

\-- --

Charlie pulls up to a quaint little house in a quiet part of the city. There are plenty of trees, and it has turned into quite a beautiful day, so the sunlight filters through the leaves and leaves a beautiful pattern on the sidewalk. Todd thinks he should take up photography, if only for himself and his little moments, because this is one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen. And actually, if he’s a betting man, this is gonna be a pretty big moment. 

The house is a nice, comforting green, and there’s a Riley Two-Point-Six in the driveway, which is a nice blue. The house itself is decently sized, and it has a perfectly sized front porch, and pretty flowers of all kinds outlining the front of the house. The lawn is well kept, and everything is thrown into a soft, amber glow because of the changing colors of the trees. 

It’s gorgeous, but Todd has a really hard time believing that Neil would settle--especially here. 

“I figured you’d wanna see Neil before I dumped you at the hotel,” Charlie jumps out of the car, and Todd follows suit. They walk up to the front door, leaves crunching under their feet. There is a doorbell, but Charlie completely ignores it and simply opens the door and walks in. Todd, who may have lost a lot of his past self but still held onto his manners, gawks at Charlie.

“They might not even be home, Charlie-”

“Charlie!” Comes a woman’s voice from what Todd knows must be the kitchen. As he enters the house, he is hit with the smell of freshly baked bread and coffee. Soft jazz comes from a record player in the corner of the living room, and Todd is immediately guilty that he thought Neil would be unhappy here, because it reminds him just so of his little house back in the country. 

Sara comes out from the kitchen, wearing a sweater and a pair of what Todd can only assume are Neil’s pants. Her hair is down, and when she smiles at them, she looks exactly like the picture that came with the wedding invitation. She walks right up to Charlie and hugs him, and then kisses him on the cheek.They smile at each other, and then she turns her focus to Todd, who isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do now.

“Todd Anderson,” She greets, and Todd feels his cheeks heat up. “It’s nice to see you not in a picture from high school.” She smiles and wraps him in a hug too. He hugs her back gently, and looks up when he hears a soft gasp from the other side of the room. 

Neil Perry stands in the doorway, hand still on the frame, as he takes in the scene in front of him. His hair is a little longer, too, but not so much where it might annoy him. It’s still combed back, same hairstyle. He too is wearing a sweater. The light from the kitchen window behind him illuminates him, and his hair shines where it meets the light, and the rest of him is cast in darkness. This, Todd thinks, is what angels look like when they touch down to the Earth. 

“Todd,” He breathes out. Sara lets go of him and leans on the banister behind her, next to Charlie, who has a smug look on his face.

“Hi,” Todd greets, in all his eloquence. Neil’s face explodes in a smile as he laughs, short and loud. Then, he’s racing across the room and holding onto Todd like he never wants to let go again. Todd hugs back, and he’s beginning to think he’ll need to get used to people hugging him again. 

The first thing that hits him is that Neil smells the same, which means he must be using the same shampoo that was used at Welton. The sudden realization that Neil is here, in his arms, still the same man, nearly makes him cry. Neil grips the back of his neck, then pulls back.

“Todd,” He repeats. Todd laughs too.

“Hi, Neil.” He chuckles. And then Neil doesn’t stop talking for the next five minutes.

“Jesus, Todd, how’ve you been? How come you never wrote me? I waited for months and I got radio silence, which, I mean, looking back in it makes sense. You aren’t one to reach out, even if it’s me, I guess. But how are you! Where did you end up going to school? I know you found somewhere in Virginia, and based on where you’re living now, I’m guessing Richmond. Richmond’s a nice school, but I was just way too in love with New York City to go so far from it. But, oh well, I guess we all ended up okay, right? I’m okay! Which is a good thing, and a relatively recent thing as I’m sure you know. Are you okay? You must be, or I would have heard something about it, I’m sure.” As he spoke, he led Todd away from the other two and into the kitchen, where Todd discovered two loaves of bread and a wide, blue kitchen with off-white cabinets and a kitchen table with three chairs. Based on what he’d seen so far, he guessed Charlie frequently visited Neil and Sara.

“I’m okay, Neil.” He responds after he sits down. Without asking, Neil gets up and makes him a cup of coffee that he takes gratefully. “I’m okay. It’s nice in Virginia, really quiet, and my town is friendly.” He answers. Neil leans on his elbows, completely fixed on Todd. It makes Todd a little self-conscious, but Neil has always had that effect on him, especially when he’s the sole focus of Neil’s attention. “Sara seems nice.” He says. Neil grins at him.

“She is. She’s wonderful. I don’t know what I’d do without her...crash and burn, probably.” He smiles then. Todd smiles as well, but it’s too quick, and both of them know it. Neil falters. “You don’t like her.” His face falls again, and Todd is thrown into a state of panic. As Todd begins to explain himself, Neil begins to talk over them.

“No, that’s not it at all! I’m sorry, I--I’m really tired. I’ve already been awake for six hours, you gotta imagine. I’m sorry, I don’t want to appear rude. Gosh--”

“It’s alright, I should have thought about it too--”

“Je _sus_ Christ!” Comes Charlie’s voice over the barrage of apologies and excuses. The other two men look up at him. Charlie shakes his head. “It’s too early for apologies, you idiots. Let’s drink and be merry, huh?” He says, reaching up into a cabinet over the sink and pulling out a bottle of vodka. Sara cheers from the doorway.

“What is the morning, if not a celebration of the day?” She calls, walking over to Charlie’s side. Neil smiles adoringly at the two of them, and Todd tries his very best to not wish it was only them two in the room again. 

Charlie and Sara fall into conversation again, and Charlie turns the radio on so the room is filled with noise once again. In the middle of the noise, the dancing and the cheering when Sara takes a shot, Neil focuses his attention on Todd again.

“I’ve missed you,” He says, just loud enough so Todd can hear him. Todd feels his face flush as he smiles.

“I missed you, too. I’m glad you’re happy.” He replies. Neil beams. 

\-- --

Later that night, Todd sits in his hotel room, paper and pencil in hand. He taps the pencil against his mouth gently, thinking. He hadn’t yet begun to write his speech for Neil’s wedding.

He was excited--please, he was excited. He was so relieved to see that Neil was happy, and that Charlie still saw him regularly. He was relieved that Neil had a warm home, and seemed to be sure of himself and genuinely okay.

He was relieved that Neil found someone that would love him, forever, if spoken words at the altar ring true. 

Todd ached for that, what Neil and Sara had. He ached for that trust, that need to ebb and flow with another person. He ached for someone to smile at him when he wasn’t looking, to run their hands through his hair like it was nothing, to do a favor for him without being asked--for someone to wear his clothing, live with him and in him. It was something he’d wanted for as long as he can remember. 

He hates that he’s jealous. Neil was, and apparently still is, his best friend. It’s unfair of Todd to say he’ll support Neil and outwardly do so, but then feel rotten inside. It probably would have been better for him to politely decline, make up an excuse about a job or a girl or an illness or _something_ , anything to stop this decay from the inside out, this festering, bubbling mass of bile that was forcing itself up his throat with the threat of revealing his innards. 

As he thinks about it, his anxiety begins to chip at his spine as he sinks into the hotel bed. _Why_ can’t he just be happy for them? Neil is safe, and stable, and in love, and all Todd has ever wanted was for him to be okay. Now that it’s true and he’s seen it with his own eyes, he can’t help but feel angry and envious because he missed the journey. How is he supposed to stand up in front of the people who love Neil, in front of his own friends, and talk about how proud and happy he is, all the while he’s putting on an act?

It’s supposed to be Neil’s job anyways--he’s the actor.

Well, was the actor. Neil turned out to be a doctor after all. That fact is still cutting into Todd’s chest, quite painfully.

Todd huffs, and looks down again at the paper in his hands. The page is blank, and at this point, so is his mind. But the wedding is in a couple days, and if he doesn’t figure something out soon, it might as well be a lost cause. He knows he will, but tonight, his brain is just too foggy. He throws his head back against the headboard and sighs. He turns the lamp off next to his bed, rolls over, and gives in to the night. 

\-- --

The next morning, Todd finds himself once again in Charlie’s car on the way to Neil’s house. He ate breakfast at the hotel, mostly because he didn’t want to inconvenience Neil and Sara with making breakfast again. On the way, Charlie asked Todd about his speech.

“Well,” Todd paused. He glanced out the window. “I’m working on it.” Charlie smiled at him.

“I’m sure it’s gonna be great. You’re one hell of a writer.” Todd nodded and smiled back, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. 

They arrive at the pretty, green house and are met with the smell of fresh flowers and a kiss on the cheek from Sara. She quickly apologizes to them, telling them she has to run out for some last minute planning, which triggers something in Charlie’s mind.

“Oh, _shit_.” He says. Sara and Todd look at him, the same way, at the same time. “I totally forgot to pick up my tux from the dry cleaning, it’ll take like fifteen minutes but they’re gonna be closed tomorrow so I’d better go now before I forget again--”

“I’ll drop you off.” Sara offers. She smiles at him. “We can go on an errand date.” Charlie laughs.

“Okay. Todd, don’t burn the house down while we’re gone, look after Neil.”

And so, Todd was in a house. That was not his own. That was, in fact, Neil Perry’s house. With Neil, in his house, just the two of them. Currently, standing in the middle of the living room, by himself. 

“Todd,” Neil greets from the same doorway as the day before, still disbelieving that the man was actually in his living room. Todd smiles, albeit unevenly. Neil crosses the room in two strides and hugs him again.

“I know Sara had to run for an errand, but where’s Charlie?” He asks, confusion written in the lines of his forehead. Todd thinks he looks like a child, confused as to why his mother is crying. It’s a sad comparison, but it just makes sense to him. 

“He forgot to pick up his tuxedo from the dry cleaners. Sara offered to drive him, and here we are.” Todd explains. Neil hums, then stands up straighter.

“Well, if that’s the case, would you want to go for a walk with me? I think there’s a lot we still need to talk about.” Neil asks. Todd’s palms get sweaty, but he nods ‘yes’ anyways. Neil puts on his shoes and a coat, and the two head off down the street. 

All of the houses in the neighborhood are different, but only slightly so. Each house has its own personality-- a nice red one, with a beautiful garden and a pick-up trunk in the driveway. There’s a white house that has a tire swing in the front, and there are people on the porch (Neil waves to them). Another house is light yellow, and the yard is unkempt, but the house itself looks loved and treasured, as if the people living there built it themselves. The trees are all shades of reds and yellows, and the mid-morning sun makes the world seem like it’s on fire. The only reason Todd knows that it isn’t on fire is because of the cool breeze that is continuing to blow at his hair. At one point, it falls over his eyes when he stops to tie his shoe, and Neil laughs again.

“Where are we going, exactly?” Todd asks as he stands up, brushing himself off.

“You’ll see.” Neil says, but he’s bursting at the seams with excitement, so Todd doesn’t question him. The outside smells unapologetically like fall, and it takes Todd back to a weary time in his life where his entire world could have been flipped upside down, and he thanks God every day that it didn’t. 

After they walk through the neighborhood, the two men are met with a wild expanse of trees, and a little green sign that says PROSPECT PARK. 

_Prospect_. Todd thinks. _An extensive view;_ responds Merriam Webster, _a mental consideration_. 

“It’s beautiful,” Is what he actually says out loud to Neil, who grabs both his arms and shakes him slightly.

“Just you wait, Anderson! This place is wonderful.” He lets go of Todd (who, instantly, misses the contact) and dashes into the park, spinning around as he goes, smiling and breathing and laughing. Todd can’t help but laugh too; a breathless, soft little thing that makes him clear his throat as he tries his best to keep up with Neil’s enthusiasm. 

Todd’s been to New York a few times before. It was the closest big city growing up, and is virtually everyone’s dream, so he went with his family a couple times. He hasn’t been here for years, however, and it’s certainly changed.

It’s busier, for sure, but Todd would be lying if he said he didn’t expect it to be so busy. No matter how far away from the city he’s been, he knows it’s busy and full and alive--just like Neil. Todd could be anywhere in the world and still be able to feel Neil’s warmth and light. Now that he’s sure of it, he’s not sure if he can go back to Virginia with the same clarity he left it in. 

“I like to come here a lot,” Neil says once Todd catches up to him. “Yeah. It’s a good place for me to come and...appreciate my life. You know? Be glad and proud of what I’ve got. I hope you have a place where you can think about this sort of stuff.” He looks into Todd’s eyes when he says this, and Todd is overwhelmed with all the trust and honesty. The way Neil says it, though, it sounds like a secret. It sounds like something he probably isn’t supposed to hear, maybe something no one is supposed to know. But Neil is standing in front of him, telling him, and the guilt from the night before bites at the nape of Todd’s neck. 

“My house serves just fine,” Todd answers. When Neil doesn’t respond, he continues. “It’s a little house, up on a hill that overlooks the town. It’s quiet.” He pauses, and then swipes his head to the side, as if to shake off the thought. “Actually, I like to go biking in the mornings. Most mornings, I bike around the lake after breakfast, and sometimes I eat with the mailman. It’s a nice place, really. Everyone is kind, and doesn’t ask why if you need help, just goes on and helps you. It’s nearly perfect.” He’s smiling now, looking off into an open field in the middle of a park as he talks about his home. He can’t see it, but Neil is smiling at him in a very similar way. Todd chuckles, and he can see his own breath glow orange with the sun and the air. 

“What?” Neil asks, smiling, tone quiet and inquisitive. Todd looks back at Neil.

“You’d either hate it or love it there. It’s somewhere that I think anyone would be happy to die, but you still have so much life and passion that I think you’d be constantly itching for an escape. It’s a good place to let yourself sink into a pattern, or be forgotten by the rest of the world, but I think you would hate that. Then again, it is beautiful, and it gives you time to think. So,” He shrugs at Neil, who’s looking at him in wonder. “I guess we won’t know until you either visit me, or die.” A sweet silence falls over them as Todd measures what he said, and as Neil admires it. 

“You’re like a Shakespeare character, an important one, cause you speak in poetry.” Neil says after a minute. Todd smiles, equally embarrassed and delighted.

“You’re the actor, so I take it you would know.” He quips. Neil brushes it off with a quick smile and a glance down at Todd’s feet.

“Let’s keep going, there's a place I wanna show you.”

\-- --

They walk through the park for another half an hour or so, seemingly with no particular destination in mind. The only reason Todd knows that they’re not mindlessly meandering through the park is because Neil said he had a specific spot in mind. Todd has no idea of what it might be, until he sees a big, brick building. 

“That’s Grace Hill,” Neil explains as they go by it. “It was commissioned before the actual park by this guy Litchfield, and he didn’t want to sell it, but I suppose if you give someone enough money they’ll do pretty much anything.” 

“And you just know that?” Todd asks, incredulous. Neil shrugs.

“Yeah. I’ve passed by enough times, read about it enough times to know enough information.” He smirks at Todd. “Enough to impress, at least.” Todd rolls his eyes, and will later blame the cold for the red of his cheeks. 

They continue on their walk, Neil pointing out various structures as they go. Todd, in his absence, had forgotten how much he loved the sound of Neil’s voice, how he could tell Neil was smiling from the way his sentences softened. He could tell when Neil was about to tell a joke, because he would rush the end of his thought and jump onto the next one. He could tell when Neil didn’t feel like talking, because he lacked wit and charm. Todd had studied Neil long enough that he knew all of the man’s ticks---what his brain latched onto and where his train of thought might end up. Part of him was surprised he still recognized these things so well after so much time without him. 

“Okay,” Neil calls. “Through here.” He crouches down under a young tree, heading off the path and down into a lower part of the land. Todd freezes for a moment, contemplates if they are allowed to do this or not, and ultimately decides to trust Neil. He, too, crouches down under the tree and down into the ravine. 

“I discovered this spot by accident,” Neil explains as he goes. “I was walking along the path back there and was too lost in thought; I tumbled down here. I thought about climbing my way back up, but there was this voice in my head that told me I should be down here. So, I kept going. It’s really, truly gorgeous in this part of the park--I like to come here to clear my head. It’s lush and soft in the spring and earlier summer, and by now it’s just…” He trails off, looking up towards the canopy of the forest and the gallery Earth had provided for them that morning. He spins around again as he walks, but it’s not a fast spin. It’s slow, almost as if he’s dancing in time with the breeze. When he turns around to face Todd again, all he says is, “Breathtaking.” 

Todd thinks-- _knows_ that he will collapse the next time Neil looks at him like that. 

Neil looks at him like he’s just as beautiful as the world around him. And--maybe he looks at everyone like that. It wouldn’t surprise Todd, if Neil saw beauty in everyone and everything he knew. 

“Yeah,” Todd agrees. He looks up too, at the sunlight painting the leaves in gold. “It sure is something.” 

Neil takes them a little ways further down the ravine until they come upon a stack of jagged rocks, jutting out from the walls of the earth like armor. Neil wastes no time in scrambling up them, and then he disappears. Todd quickly makes his way after Neil, and discovers a little cave that could fit no more than three people. There are some candles melted onto the, now smooth, rock. In a pocket closer to the ceiling, there is a matchbox, a paper clip, and a coin. Todd throws Neil a quizzical look, and Neil just shrugs in response.

“I found it the same day. I like little pockets in the world. I like finding little places to hide in for a second.” He smiles, lopsided and ridiculously fond. It makes Todd’s stomach plummet. “Now, come in out of the rain, would you? You’ll catch a cold,” He teases, although there isn’t a cloud in the sky. Todd obliges, and sits across from him on the stone floor.

“Coffee?” Neil asks. 

“I’m more of a tea person, myself.” Todd replies. They both look out the entrance to the little cave, at the trees that seem to go on forever. Todd speaks first.

“It really is beautiful, and a great place to think.” He says. He doesn’t turn around though, instead, continues with his thought. “The candles are a nice touch, though, I thought the park closed at a certain point? I would be terrified to come out here in the dark. Not because I’m scared of this, per se, but I would be scared of the NYPD.” He chuckles. “It’s not quite the same, but it reminds me of the bike path I was talking about. I helped a turtle last week. He was flipped on his back in the middle of the road, so I turned him right side up. You’re never supposed to grab a turtle by its shell, because it could seriously hurt them if you do. This one was fine, he just waddled back into the pouch of trees by the lake. It’s called Little Lake. I really love it there. 

“I...I was fairly sure I’d figured everything out there. I’m not so sure now, but I do know that I needed to be there. My house has a small kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom, and that’s really it. Everything is within a short walk or sometimes arms reach. It’s, at the same time, something I’ve never had before and something I’ve had my whole life. What’s truly, openly different, though, is that I am alone. I make all the decisions.” He takes a breath with the world around him, breathing as the wind grows. “It’s terrifying. But, _God_ , is it exhilarating. I’m becoming my own person and I’m in love with him.” He smiles at his words and turns around to face Neil, but finds him fallen over himself, his elbows resting on his knees, every joint bent in. He’s playing with his fingers, dancing them over his hands. Todd can’t see his face, and while that isn’t imminently worrying, it is concerning.

“Yeah.” He says. “Yeah, Todd. That’s…” Todd hears him sniff, and prays that it’s the cold. “I’m glad that you have that.” Todd turns his body to focus all his attention on his friend.

“You don’t? I...well, Neil, I thought you--”

“I know what you thought,” Neil interrupts. He snaps his head up, and as he does, tears roll down his cheeks. Todd recoils slightly, and Neil holds his hands out, flat. “I’m sorry, I-” He brings one of his hands up to cover his mouth, then runs it down the length of his face. “I thought it too. I thought I figured it out. But you were there that night, you know I didn’t.”

Of course Todd knows. Everything he thought that’d been proven wrong in the past day and a half had been torn down in the span of a sentence. Neil looks at him, dead in the eye. His hands shake, he starts to cry and he cuts open his chest, in this dank little cave in the middle of Prospect Park in the early afternoon. 

“I never had that freedom. I tasted it, I felt the mist in the air from the storm that is free will, but I have never had something truly mine.” He pauses. “I hate being a doctor. I hate my perfect house, and perfect lawn, and I--” He cuts himself off before he can talk ill of Sara, because they both know she really is wonderful. “I feel so bad for her. I really love her, I do, I just...I can’t do this to her. I can’t, and I don’t know how to-”  
“Hey.” Todd says, soft and tragically understanding. “Look at me, okay? Breathe with me.” He takes Neil’s hands in his own and rubs the back of his hands with his thumbs. “Watch my chest, the rise and fall, the pace of it. Breathe with me.” He slides off the rock he’s sitting on and sits in front of Neil, trying to offer a personal lighthouse in the middle of the tempest. 

“Breathe,” Neil says, and grips Todd’s hands like a lifeline.

“Breathe.” Todd confirms, though it wasn’t exactly a question. Surely, Neil finds the ground again, and the warm colors of the leaves outside.

“Can we keep walking?” He asks, voice even. “There’s no space in here.”

“Of course, Neil.” Todd lets go and hops down and out of the ground, Neil following close behind him

“I’m sorry,” Neil apologizes. “I didn’t mean to...I just hate lying. Especially to you.” 

“I know.” Is all Todd says. There’s a mutual understanding between them that all is forgiven, that they’re both lying to themselves, and worst of all, each other. It hurts the most, the lying to each other. 

Later, that night, when Todd is once again sitting in his hotel bed, he begins to write his speech. All the while, guilt drips down his cheeks and throat as he pours his thoughts onto the paper. Now, more than ever, he wishes for his typewriter. He scrawls, almost mindlessly, on this little pad of hotel paper as he cries. They aren’t sad tears, nor happy tears, but he is so overcome with emotion and truth that he cannot stop his feelings from getting the better of him. He writes, seemingly, for hours and hours. By the time he has no tears left, the clock reads 2:37 AM. Todd looks down at the booklet in his hand, pages worn like they’re a hundred years old but have been spared until tonight. 

When he wakes up in the morning, he sifts through the pages to decipher them, find out what is actually usable. He does manage to get a good, strong speech together, and then is left with the remainder of his epiphany. Todd comes to a conclusion that the wedding will be a good, happy night. He comes to terms with the fact that he didn’t get to watch Neil grow, and that’s okay. He comes to terms with the fact that Sara and Neil are going to have a wonderful night, and furthermore, a wonderful life. 

He comes to terms with the fact that he has to go back to Virginia as soon as possible, because it seems he is suited for the reserved, for the quiet, and for the distant. If he calls the airport that morning to book a flight midway through the after-party, none of the guests would be the wiser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo boy...........


	3. the reason i breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Todd rises, surprised to find himself in the hotel room. It was one of those mornings where you feel like you’re in a place, only when you open your eyes, it’s a completely different view. He hums to himself, and has half a mind to roll back over and avoid the rest of the day.

_6:03 am. Day of the wedding_.

Todd rises, surprised to find himself in the hotel room. It was one of those mornings where you feel like you’re in a place, only when you open your eyes, it’s a completely different view. He hums to himself, and has half a mind to roll back over and avoid the rest of the day. He was so under-prepared, it was laughable. 

He knew he didn’t have to be up this early, but his nerves wouldn’t let him fall back asleep, seeing as they were the very thing that’d woke him in the first place. So, he gets ready for the first part of his day. The trip to Niagara was a long drive, but it would all be set up by the time he got there. Neil and Sara had left the night before in order to get everything perfectly how they wanted it, and Todd had declined when they asked him to join them. It isn’t that he didn’t want to, exactly, but he had a gut feeling that he did not belong there with them.

That feeling had carried into his morning, as he stepped into Charlie’s car.

\-- --

When they arrived at the venue, Neil and Sara were both already in their separate dressing rooms. The ceremony itself was going to be right in front of the falls, but the dinner was in a gorgeous hall, white walls intricately decorated with flowers and vines and every type of foliage you could imagine. There were silky curtains that fell effortlessly from the ceiling, which hung in a wide arch over all the people below it. Huge picture windows allowed light to bathe the room, making every little piece of metal or jewelery glow. Through those windows, you could see the water, and the awe that came about when you saw Niagara in it’s entirety. 

Todd once heard a story about someone swimming across the Niagara, and before he could get all the way across, he had been swept downstream about thirty miles. Todd thanks his lucky stars that he isn’t that stupid. 

Maybe he is. He’s Neil Perry’s best fucking man. 

Each table had simple white tablecloths and a little bouquet of white, purple and blue flowers. Everything looked like it was taken straight out of a painting, or that the wedding coordinator was a 17th century Frenchman. Either way, the room made you feel special and delicate. As Todd and Charlie passed the room on the way to their friend, Charlie peeked in.

“Wow,” He said. Todd turned around to look at him. “This is pretty nuts.”

“Yeah,” Todd chuckled. “Yeah, it hit me like a freight train the other night, how crazy this all is.” 

“I know,” Came a voice ahead of them. “I can’t believe you guys are right here.” Charlie and Todd both turned around to find Knox Overstreet, smiling at them in a way that was probably meant to be a smirk, but the excitement had overcome him. Charlie yelps, and runs over to Knox, almost knocking him down in the motion. Todd follows immediately. 

“Hey, guys.” Knox greets. “How’s it going?”

“Great,” Todd says, at the same time Charlie says, “It’s a nightmare.” Both answers are correct. Knox just laughs.

“Well, I’m glad I ran into you guys,” He says pointedly at Charlie, who lets out a loud bark of laughter. “Chris is in the dressing room with Sara--I know, I can’t believe it either.” He grins from ear to ear. He gives them one last nod then hurries off down the corridor behind them.

“Shit.” Charlie says after a minute. “It really has been a long time.” And then, Todd realizes that none of the Poets have really kept in contact with each other, excluding Neil and Charlie. In theory, that should make him feel better about his position in the wedding and his relationship with Neil, but it only makes him feel worse. Of course, he doesn’t voice this to Charlie. 

The two of them continue through the building and down another corridor, and then into Neil’s dressing room.

Todd is met with the sight of him, black slacks and a white button down, hair combed back meticulously, nervously fiddling with his shoelaces. As the door opens, he whips around, and Todd has to physically restrain himself from reaching out and pushing back a loose strand of hair. 

“Boys!” He greets, and smiles wide and hugs them both. The both of them, however, notice that Neil’s voice cracks as he greets them, and is higher in pitch. “I’m so excited.” Neil says after he pulls back. Charlie smiles at him.

“Yeah, we ran into Knox on the way to see you. Do you know when the others will be here?” Charlie asks, leaning against the door frame. Neil shrugs.

“I mean, I assume they’ll be here with everyone else. Knox came early because of Chris and their daughter.”

_Daughter?_ Holy shit.

“He-He has a daughter?” Todd asks in bewilderment. Neil smiles lazily, and Todd’s brain goes even more fuzzy. Charlie shakes his head.

“Well, shit. I gotta start racking up those uncle points. See you guys in ten,” He calls, winking at Neil as he goes. Neil rolls his eyes.

“Does my hair look okay?” He asks after a second. Todd shakes his head and smiles.  
“It looks perfect, Neil. You’ll be fine.” Neil huffs, and plays with his fingers, and anxious tick Todd had picked up on their senior year at Welton. 

“Sure, yeah. It’s not like it’s the most important day of my life, or anything.” Neil supplies. He leaves out the fact that _it’s not like he’s selling himself into a fantasy that won’t do anybody any good_. That part he leaves unsaid, and at this moment, Todd can’t tell if that’s even what he’s thinking. 

“Neil,” Todd says instead, and places a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Neil turns to look at him. 

If eyes were the windows to the soul, Neil Perry’s were a telescope in a planetarium. You look through, and you see the stars, you see the vast expanse that is outer space, and you wish, suddenly, that you were an astronaut. Because astronauts get to explore, to discover and learn what is hidden in the stars, and if they’re lucky, they live in the stars. Todd thinks about aliens, and space movies, and all the things they don’t know about the moon. He thinks that Neil could probably get them there.

“I know,” Neil says, mistakenly taking Todd’s silence for unspoken communication. It honestly may have been, but Todd had been too lost in his head to notice it. “Jesus. It used to be me calming you down and trying to get you through things, and now it’s the opposite. It makes you wonder; what else has time done to us?” He asks, nearly wistful. Todd smiles.

“I guess time will tell.” He offers, barely over a whisper. Neil fully laughs, throwing his head back and bringing his hands up to his chest in order to hinder the laughter. Todd drowns in the sound and in the sight and wishes for a typewriter. 

“Shit, that reminds me--” Neil gets up after he’s stopped laughing and reaches into one of the drawers on the vanity. He pulls out a long, white box. “It’s a necklace for Sara; she gave me a watch yesterday, and I thought it would be proper to give her my mother’s necklace.” He explains. Still, he doesn’t move to give it to her. Todd fixes him a funny look. “What?”

“Well, why haven’t you given it to her?” Neil pauses and flushes.

“I--I sorta forgot. And I’m not allowed to see her until...will you please give it to her for me? Please? It’ll take all of five minutes. You’re my best man, after all.” Neil reasons. Todd, on the other hand, freezes. It was not a casual thing to give your best friend’s fiance a necklace a couple hours before their wedding, regardless of the intentions. But, then again, it is the wedding. If Neil had any favors to cash in, now would be a good time to do so.

“I, uh..sure, yeah. Anything you want me to say?” He asks before he can stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. He can almost see them piled at his feet, orange and sickly, burning through his nice shoes. 

“I love you,” Neil says after looking at the white box for a second. He pauses again, and then looks up at Todd. “Tell her I love her.” 

“I will,” Todd promises. He can’t help wonder, along with the stars above him, if those words had been rehearsed. 

\-- --

Todd knocks gently on the door. After a few seconds of no reply, Todd nearly smacks himself because of course they couldn’t hear it, there’s music blasting from the room. Todd gears himself up and then knocks a little louder. 

“Comin’!” Sara calls from inside. It’s Chris Noel--Overstreet-- who opens the door, though.

“Todd Anderson!” She cheers. “What brings you here?” She asks. Todd smiles politely at her.

“Neil asked me to bring this necklace over for Sara,” He explains. Chris nods and lets him in the room, then goes and lowers the volume on the radio. 

“Todd,” Sara greets, absolutely beaming. He can’t help but smile back. Sara has one of the most infectious smiles ever, and it bleeds into everything she does. Her dress is elegant; it’s simple, but it fits her perfectly, and if Todd had to guess, it’s custom made. There are little lace flowers that don the skirt of the dress, which isn’t exactly form fitting, but it certainly isn’t a ball gown. The neck of the dress is a slight and tasteful V, with solid white sleeves coming all the way down to her hands. Her hair is in a neat bun, and she looks like she’s glowing.

“You look very beautiful,” He compliments. Sara’s smile grows wider, if that’s even possible.

“Thank you. I’m absolutely elated. What’ve you got, there?” She asks, peeking around Todd to see what’s behind his back. Todd produces the white box.

“It’s a necklace, it-it was his mother’s,” He explains. Sara opens it and gasps. It’s a silver chain with a small diamond in the middle, perfect for her dress. “He would give it to you himself, but, y’know, rules are rules. He also told me to tell you he loves you.” Todd smiles, lopsided, and takes a step back. Chris walks over and helps her put it on, and the two talk about how gorgeous it is, and how kind of Neil. Then, they start dancing.

Todd feels completely out of place. He starts to turn to leave, but Sara grabs his hand.

“C’mon! Celebrate with us! It’s the best time to, anyways!” She laughs as she spins him around, and Todd can’t help but find himself laughing, too. He doesn’t recognize the song that’s playing on the radio, but it’s upbeat and has a pleasant melody, so Todd laughs along, spinning, carefree for the moment. Then, it shifts to a classical piece, and the three of them calm down.

“Do you know how to dance, Todd?” Chris asks. She’s sat across the room, leaning on the edge of Sara’s vanity. Todd looks at his feet.

“Well, I...I can--yeah, I learned...a while ago.” He trails off at the end of his sentence. Sara takes his hands again.

“I’m going to take that as a no. Okay, here. Put your hand on my waist--yup. Okay--okay! You remember some things.” She laughs. Todd feels like he’s overstepping some unspoken boundary, but seeing as Knox’s wife would be the other “option” in the scenario, he plays along. 

“I-um, remember a...box step?” Sara nods enthusiastically and takes him through the motions of the box step.

“One, two, three, one, two three--yeah! You can dance.” She lets go and winks at him. “Had to make sure. Don’t want you messing up at the party!” And just like that, she’s back in the seat he found her in, meddling with her hair. Todd shakes his head to himself and steps out of the room, and instantly feels ten degrees cooler. 

Todd understood why Neil loved her, they were practically the same person.

\-- -- 

The lawn is packed. There are all kinds of people, and Todd bitterly recognizes Neil's father in the front row. On the other side, he sees what can only be Sara’s family, if the ridiculously curly hair didn’t give that away. 

Todd recognizes Steven Meeks and Gerard Pitts’ names on chairs next to each other a few rows back. He smiles to himself, happy to note that those two haven’t changed much. He says something to Charlie about them being buried in the same grave so they can talk about radios in the afterlife, which throws the both of them into a fit of giggles. Knox’s chair is placed with Chris at one side, and on the other side is a chair with Richard Cameron’s name on it. Todd wonders why Neil invited him at all, not to mention the wedding party. 

He and Charlie join the rest of the Poets a little ways back from the rest of the guests. They’re all chatting with their matching bridesmaids, who all seem to be lovely people as well. Todd and Chris are paired up, which is a bit strange, but it makes sense since she’s the maid of honor. 

(The Poets will have their own party later--well, except Todd. He has a flight to catch.) 

There’s a nice little archway set up in front of the railing, with little walls on each side of it. The arch itself has vines and flowers wrapped around it, and the entire thing is so pretty and perfect that the same not-quite-right feeling Todd had a few days ago floods his thoughts, successfully drowning out rationality, until the music begins and Charlie nudges him forwards.

The procession follows as any regular wedding procession would. Sara’s mother walks forwards first, and then Neil walks up to the podium as the Poets and the flower girl follow. And then, the audience holds their breath as Sara and her father make their way up the middle of the seats. Her face is covered with the veil, but Todd knows she looks absolutely perfect.

It makes his stomach twist, and Todd wishes he could gut himself so he wouldn’t feel so guilty.

_Guilty of what, exactly?_ Says an annoying voice in his head. Todd elects to ignore it.

Sara walks up the podium, and Neil slowly lifts off her veil. Adoration radiates off of them, mostly from Sara’s bright smile and tears that begin to well in her eyes. Neil’s smile is softer, more subdued, but no less fond. It’s the only thing Todd can focus on while the priest talks about their eternal bond. 

They both say their vows, which are hilarious and intimate, and that gnawing feeling comes back when Neil laughs at an inside joke. Charlie must notice, because he elbows Todd and leans over.

“You alright, Anderson?” He asks with a joking tone, though his face is serious.

“Yeah,” Todd says dismissively. “Yeah, I--” He looks quickly at Charlie, then back at the rings being exchanged. “I’m perfect.” 

They kiss. Their families cheer. They are pronounced married. Todd fights the urge to throw up.

It’s unfair, really. Sara is wonderful. Neil is wonderful. They are wonderful together. They are wonderful and happy and in love, and who is Todd to judge? Who is Todd, to show up and watch, and all the while be dripping with overripe guilt from the depths of his chest, green and sticky and putrid. Who is he, to come in, stinking like mold and rot, but cover it in a nice black suit and a speech, and call it a day? Who is he to say one thing, think another, and then do something completely different than that? He is a liar, and better suited for quiet and unchanging. He is better suited for a hole in the ground, rather than a seat at the main table.

But that’s where he finds himself not thirty minutes later.

The dining hall is packed, similar to the lawn. He knows it’s not true, but the room seems to have doubled in size with the amount of people that’ve been shoved into it. It’s dark out now, so grand chandeliers blast light all throughout the room, sparkling and spinning as they go. Todd finds himself transfixed with the intricate glass work. 

“Beautiful, right?” Neil whispers to him, watching as people continue to squeeze in the room and find their seats. “I can proudly say this was my idea.”

“That’s wonderful.” Another thing Todd was not privy to.   
People find their seats when cocktail hour is announced. In a much more orderly fashion, tables get up one by one to get food, and then schmooze. Neil, a mensch, immediately gets up to talk to family and friends. Todd, who is much more apt to cling to the wall, spots Meeks and Pitts from across the room and makes a beline for them. 

“Hey!” Pitts greets as he sees Todd running up to him. “Been a while, yeah?”

“Pitts, c’mon, we’ve had this conversation with Knox and Neil already, Todd doesn’t need it too.”

“And Charlie.” Pitts adds. Meeks smiles.

“And Charlie,” He turns his attention to Todd. “How are you? Your cute little life in Virginia treating you well?” He asks. Todd smiles and nods. 

“Yeah, it’s nice and quiet.” Meeks nods in affirmation. It hits Todd, again, suddenly, how changed they are. They look the same, and evidently still came in a pair, but have grown so much that he’s not sure if he could recognize them in a crowd.

“Good.” Pitts says. “You deserve some quiet.”

The words have good intentions, and Todd appreciates where they’re coming from, but they too sit like rocks in the pit of his stomach. 

He talks to Meeks and Pitts for a while, learns about their adventures at Harvard and the tech business they’re starting together. It fits them perfectly, and he’s glad to talk to them, but he feels like he’s being watched. At one point, he does turn around to see who’s looking at him, but can find no such culprit. Cameron joins them eventually and complains about a comment Charlie made on his suit, which makes the other three laugh. Some things haven’t changed. 

Todd’s anxiety is going nuts right now, and that’s for a couple reasons. The first is that he has to give a speech relatively soon. He’s proud of it, sure, but part of him fears it’s way too personal to share with everyone here. Then again, it doesn’t really matter, because he’s leaving as soon as he’s finished. That’s the other reason he’s nervous--he’s making a close call with take off time. Most people get to the airport hours before the plane is even fueled up, but Todd is going to leave the wedding with an hour and a half to spare. All his things are packed and in Charlie’s car, so he just has to get a taxi to the airport and through customs, and then he’s home free. He feels bad about being so relieved to leave, but the guilt from staying overpowers that. It just isn’t right.

And, really, it took Todd a long time to warm up to the Poets back at Welton. They’d all already been friends, and had originally not thought much of Todd, with Neil being the exception. Sure, they’d all been polite to him, but they never looked out for him until after they officially became said Poets. Nonetheless, there was always this sinking feeling of not belonging or really understanding. Being back around them after so long brings about this whiff of late summer in New England and meeting six other boys he would come to trust with his life.

Cocktail hour ends, and Neil and Sara get up to perform their first dance. Todd recognizes the music immediately. It is Nocturne op. 9 No.2, a song he fell in love with during high school. Being roommates with Neil meant being subject to all his music. Todd played his fair share of music too, but he always listened to Neil. The record player in their room was well loved.

Chris stands up to give a speech for Sara after the dance. Todd learns that Knox and Neil had been keeping in touch, and that Chris and Sara became best friends through them. Todd smiles and doesn’t let his jealousy reach the surface--he sees it as a bubbling, dark purple syrup that makes him cross his legs at the ankle to stop himself from shaking. 

Chris speaks, and then Neil stands up to announce Todd.

“I would like to introduce my best man, Todd.” He smiles, at the guests and then at Todd, and then Todd is pushing out his chair, reaching into his pocket and standing up. He imagines that this is not unlike stage fright, but he’s not the one who would have that information.

The sea of people in front of him finish clapping, and then blink up at him expectantly. Todd had rehearsed his speech as much as he could since he wrote it, and even in front of Charlie (who wept), but standing in front of the entire room was a completely different story.

Someone coughs. It’s been too long--Todd can’t think straight. They’re going to criticize him, criticize Neil for choosing him, and they’re going to laugh when he tries to apologize. Maybe he should just leave now, get to the airport early, because at least then they’ll have to go all the way to Virginia to make fun of him, and that just doesn’t happen. Because people don’t do that, they don’t--

“Hey,” Neil whispers. “Stay on the ground.” He says. Todd doesn’t look at him, but takes a breath.

“I-I’m sure you all appreciated my, um, dramatic pause,” He tries. He gets a few laughs and claps from the tables, the Poets especially. He begins to smile. “Thank you all for--for having me speak, and, Neil and Sara, congratulations.” He says this to them, then turns back to the audience. He licks his lips. “This speech was hard for--for me to write. I write a lot; it’s my job, and I-uh, I usually know what I want to write.” Todd’s confidence begins to grow, in little bursts of confidence. Someone smiles at him directly, Charlie whoops at the end of his sentence. Neil crosses his foot over Todd’s under the table. 

“However, for as long as I’ve known him, I-I’ve always had a hard time...confining Neil to paper. Neil belongs to real poets: Shakespeare, or Poe, or Dickinson. He, uh, belongs to stories, to classical literature, to French Revolutions and Greek mythology. These are things I can only seem to dream of, things that occupy my time when I need an escape. Neil is a balm on human existence, and anyone who has ever met him can agree. He is my best friend, and I wouldn’t trade that for my life. I have only caught a glimpse of his epic, and have only been part of the story for as long as he’s let me, but since the moment I knew him he has been nothing but kind. And that isn’t confined to me, Neil, he--he spreads that kindness as far he can, sometimes to his detriment. Relentlessly, Neil is kind, and considerate, and good.” He pauses to take a breath. “I have known this of Neil for all the time I’ve been given to know him. While we all grow and change, this is a constant. Love, strength, terrifying kindness. My friend is an everlasting lighthouse; a beacon and a guide. 

This is exactly why I know Sara is the most wonderful person he could ever find. She, too, is relentlessly caring, and sweet, and happy. In the short time I’ve known her, I’ve found her smile brightens the room, and her presence demands that brightness. They are two halves of the same clay, sculpted by those great poets and artists. There is not doubt in my heart that they will live deliberately, and within each other, for as long as time will tell.” He smiles into the crowd and raises his glass. “To Neil and Sara, and to their soul!” He nearly shouts. The room cries with him, and Todd laughs, gleeful and relieved, and satisfied that he had played his part to the tee. He floats back down to his chair, and finds that he can’t remember what he was thinking about while he was talking, but that usually happens when he tries public speaking. As soon as he’s in his seat, Neil is trapping him in a bone-crushing hug, thanking him over and over. 

Neil and Sara stand up from their seats at the head table and thank Chris and Todd. Neil’s father says a few words from his seat, not needing a microphone. Sara’s father does the same, and by the end of his spiel, the guests are laughing so hard they’re crying.

“Well,” Neil says to the world once the laughter has died down. “Dinner!” Todd laughs quietly to himself.

_It’s lovely_ , Todd thinks. _It’s a wedding, after all_. He knows his cheeks are red because he can feel the warmth when he touches them. For the first time in a few days, his chest is filled with air and pure glee instead of rocks and sinking guilt. The air is light blue, but he feels golden. The room, the people, Neil, it’s all tinted gold. His champagne, too, seems to be sparkling with joy as he takes a sip. The room is effervescent, screaming a comfortable life of worry-free adoration and complete sunshine. Todd basks in the feeling. It may be from the alcohol or a symptom of his fleeing anxiety, and he finds he doesn’t care which. All he wants is a camera, so he can capture the scene and take it home with him so he never feels quiet again.

But that’s selfish. And he doesn’t belong here. The fact that he has to leave soon pierces him through the stomach, and Todd reaches for it before he remembers where he is, and that there is no arrow sticking out of him.

He stalls for as long as he can. He sits at the front, at the main table, with Neil. Sara had finished eating, and was talking excitedly with Chris and one of her friends on the other side of the room. Todd and Neil were the only two there, and everyone seemed to sense that they needed their space for a minute.

Todd’s laughter fades as he thinks more and more, and when he finally floats down to the ground, Neil is there smiling at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

_Don’t_. Todd thinks. _I’m not_. 

“I don’t believe you,” Is what Neil opens with. Todd has no idea what he’s talking about, and tells him so. “Your speech. You’re just as much of a poet as Emily Dickinson. More so, in my eyes.”

In Neil’s eyes. That meant space, and the unknown. 

“Th-Thank you, Neil.” Todd says, all too formally. Neil shakes his head.

“I can’t believe this.” He takes Todd’s hand and grips it tightly. “Todd, I wish I could think like you. I wanna be able to speak like that. I’m hardly the things you say I am, but the way you say them makes me want to believe you.” He says, softly, and Todd cannot hear the rest of the party. His senses zero in on where his hand is in Neil’s, and how Neil’s focus is one hundred percent on him.

(Really, shouldn’t it be on Sara?)

“I…” Todd feels his face heat up even more, and feels his palms get sweaty. His heart speeds up. He’s not used to this anymore. “I-I don’t know, um, I don’t know what to say.” He really should just say ‘thank you’ again, and move on, but nothing is ever that simple. Neil smiles at him, but this time, he looks sad.

“That’s okay. I kind of figured you wouldn’t. I’ll keep talking.” He scoots his chair closer to Todd’s, and Todd slowly remembers the people around them, who surely must be looking at them now.

“Neil-”

“You are the reason I still breathe, Todd Anderson. If you hadn’t yelled for me, I would have pulled the trigger. At home, I always felt trapped, and every time I saw my father, I could feel my lungs collapsing, and my brain looking for a way to swan dive out of my head. But at Welton, in our dorm, I could breathe. I could smile, and you...it was for you.” He lets his head drop, but doesn’t let go of Todd’s hand. “I can’t give you enough. I would give you whatever you asked for if you wanted it, cause what can you do when someone saves you? I would do everything, I would. But you’ll never ask a single damn thing of me, and instead you’ll praise me, and that’s not how it should work. But I need you to know this, I need you to.”

“Neil, please, dessert is--is soon, we--you--I-”

“No,” Neil says a bit too loudly. Todd sees a few people turn their heads out of his peripheral vision. “No. I don’t care about food. I care about you, and I need you to know that. That I would do anything. I need you to.”

“I-I know, Neil, I do, really. Thank you, but…” But the words trail off. Neil looks back up at him, tears streaming down his face. They hear the soft click clack of heels as Sara runs up to the little stage the main table sits on.

“Neil, my love, why are you crying?” She asks, voice full of concern. Neil latches onto Todd’s gaze for as long as he can before turning to her, a huge smile plastered on his face.

“Gosh, I’m-I’m just so happy.” He laughs, and lets go of Todd, leaning over the table to kiss the top of her head. She beams up at him, and then music begins to play, queuing her first dance with her father. 

The lights dim. Todd’s time is up. 

“Todd,” Neil whispers behind the music. The scene in front of them could bring tears to everyone’s eyes; two wonderful people, crying and laughing and loving. “Todd.” Todd can almost taste the alcohol on his breath.

“Yes?” He asks, and turns slightly to face Neil, who’s backed up a bit. Neil is still crying.

“You do mean what you said, right? About--about-”

“Yes,” Todd assures him. “Yes. You are a golden boy, Apollo.” Todd can’t stop the words. These words don’t tumble to his feet, but drip scalding metal from his lips, causing him to pull back from the heat. His anxiety grabs him by both ears and yanks him back, teases him about letting his heart bleed so much it’ll stain his friend’s suit. The blood and the gold mix, the metallic smell almost too much to bear, burning and staining and dripping. Todd feels like he’s dying, with one sentence, and crashing. Apollo is something he’d written down but never made it to the final draft.

“Still, you deify me?” Neil breathes, and it’s the realest smile Todd has seen on his face in nearly a decade.

_Yes_ , Todd thinks. _You’re glowing even now_. Todd thinks a lot. 

He bows his head in a nod, and looks at his feet. His eyes find Neil’s hands, which are reaching for his own, and the watch Sara gave him. The time reads 8:03. Todd’s plane leaves at 9:15.

Shit.

He looks up at Neil, so quick he almost hits him. He stands up.

“I have to pee.” He says nothing else and slinks along the side of the room, as fast as he can, towards the hallway. He can distantly hear Neil calling for him, and whizzes past a confused Meeks. As soon as he makes it out the doors, he breaks into a full sprint out of the building. 

He rushes to Charlie’s car and throws open the trunk. Frantically, he grabs his bags and sprints towards the entrance of Niagara Falls State Park. He hails a taxi and gives harried instructions directing the driver to the airport. He makes it to the airport by 8:26, and through customs and baggage checking by 8:43. He’s in his seat by 8:58, and it is then that he begins to cry.

\-- --

Neil watches Todd go, and calls out for him, but Todd doesn’t stop, and once he’s out of the room, he sprints.

_Too much wine_ , Neil reasons. He stands up from the table to dance with Sara, to keep himself occupied, to not think about what could have been.

Yes, Neil is in love. He knows this. He knows it when he looks at Sara. 

They dance for a song or two, then retreat to the table, and Neil momentarily forgets that Todd had run off to the restroom. 

“Todd's gone,” He whispers to Sara while one of his uncles tells some jokes. She sits up from where she had been leaning on his shoulder and looks out into the crowd.

“Oh,” She says. “Bathroom?” She reasons, too. Neil gives her a look.

“He said that, but that was fifteen minutes ago. What…” Sara squeezes his arm.

“Maybe he’s not feeling well, huh? We did cater fairly rich food, and too much alcohol can do you in.” Neil nods.

Fifteen minutes turns into thirty. Thirty to thirty-five, to forty. Neil calls Charlie over and asks him to go look in all the bathrooms. Fifty minutes, and Charlie comes back empty handed. Neil’s mind races, going back and forth between all the places he could be. He said he had to pee, but he did look like he was going to hurl.

“He’s outside, maybe?” Charlie offers. He goes to look. Todd is not found.

The rest of the wedding carries on like normal, now into the general party portion. Everyone is dancing and laughing, and the room is full of pretty lights and music. 

Neil is terrified. It’s been over an hour, and Todd is nowhere to be found. 

Neil is terrified. He fears Todd understood what he was saying. 

Even though he kept saying it, insistently, that Todd needed to understand, he thought he was off the hook. He thought he could play it off as being drunk, too high on happiness and gratitude and alcohol to really understand what he himself way saying. Of course, Neil knew exactly what he was saying. He had to get creative, though to say it. Folks don’t appreciate that kind of feeling, not even in New York. Certainly not at his own wedding.

Sara is starting to look more concerned than he is, and she’s only just met Todd. It makes Neil’s heart ache, for her and Todd. She becomes painfully optimistic, telling Neil they’ll find him, that Todd will come back, that he’s okay. But she doesn’t know that. She’s smiling way too brightly, and Neil can’t see a single thing.

She smiles, and his guts fold in on each other, and Charlie rubs his back, and Neil doesn’t care that she’s smiling. He doesn’t care that his father is six feet away from him, and he doesn’t care that Charlie is breaking character because Neil just can’t take care of himself. Todd needs to know. He needs to find Todd, and say it outright, because if Todd disappears to Virginia again then Neil will never have the chance to say it. It will be too late. 

If he could just say something, now, something that would let Todd know that Neil needs him, that Neil wants him, that-

That-

That Neil loves him. 

Neil loves him more than anything he has ever loved in his life. He loves him more than the moon loves the tide, and he loves him more than any of the Poets, or all of them combined. Neil loves Todd as much as his heart allows him to. Neil loves him more than anything any poet has ever written, any metaphor, or simile, or characterization. Neil loves him more than the way the Earth smells after it rains, more than a cup of coffee after you’ve had a long, cold day, more than staring down the barrel of a gun to find yourself alive, breathing, and okay. 

Neil loves Todd more than he loves Sara.

It hits him, like that bullet, and goes straight through his head. He can almost see it; silver, breaking through skin, spilling red, and splintering his skull. He can feel the phantom of it too. He’s felt in it nightmares, but someone was always there, across the room, to wake him and remind him to breathe.

Neil snaps his head up as he feels the bullet go through, and has to place his hands on the table in front of him to steady himself. In that moment, his father doesn’t matter. His mother doesn’t matter, his entire family doesn’t matter. Meeks and Pitts, laughing from across the room don’t matter. Cameron, laughing and playing with Knox’s daughter doesn’t matter. Knox himself and Chris, whispering quiet words and sending waves of concern his way don’t matter. Charlie, still rubbing his back, doesn’t matter. The chandelier directly above him does not matter.  
Sara, at that moment, doesn’t matter. It’s something that sits with him for the rest of his life.

Neil spots him. He’s sure of it--he sees Todd. All the way across the room, back turned to Neil, talking to someone Neil swears Todd doesn’t know. Hell, Neil’s not even sure if he knows the guy. But he’s sure he can see Todd, knows him, even in the dim light, by the color of his hair and the broadness of his shoulders. He is sure he could find Todd if they lived on different planets.

He stands up.

“Todd Anderson,” He cries, and he must shout loud, because the entire room is staring at him with rapt attention. The room slows, not frozen, but slows. He sees the man across the room start to turn, and before he can turn around fully Neil shouts, louder than he ever has before, raw, true. Heartbreaking. 

“I love you.”

The room falls silent, and Neil falls too, back into his chair and into himself. The air is heavy, and hot, and dark. He can’t hear anything, and watches himself fall from across the room. The man is surely not Todd.

He doesn’t remember what happens next. 

\-- --

The archway of trees is welcoming and nearly familial at this point. They aren’t as lush, as the winter has come viciously and robbed the trees of their leaves, but it isn’t any less breathtaking. Snow coats them, effectively changing the mood of the entire scene. 

Todd doesn’t prefer one season to the other. He’s come to love all of them, and can’t choose a favorite, because they are all so ridiculously different that you would think you were living in a different world if you hadn’t been born there, and lived through the cycles of the seasons. Todd thinks he should write a book about extraterrestrial life, and put in his two cents about undiscovered creatures, how they might view humans. He wishes they spent more time learning about the stars, but there is only so much you can learn on a basic level until you have to actively study and discover things for yourself. 

But, that’s alright. Todd isn’t meant for that; he’s meant for his little house in Virginia, and his typewriter. It’s all he needs. 

He rounds the corner, smiling as he goes, because the cold is welcoming and numbs his brain for a while. He dips down a small hill, and the wind flies across his face, and it almost hurts. But Todd takes it all in, because it feels right to do so. It might not tomorrow, and it may have not yesterday, but now it feels good and in it’s place.

He comes up to the main road and decides to pass through the town. As he goes, he waves to Sadie, the hotel keeper and his dear friend, who is shoveling snow off the hotel steps. She waves back, grinning delightfully. He waves to Paul, who is sitting just inside the garage on the lip of his pickup truck, drinking coffee. Paul, the friendly mechanic who helped him on his first day, waves back. He greets the florist, the baker, the librarian, and by the time he gets to his little house on the hill Aflie, the mailman, is just walking up to his house. 

“Hello, Todd!” He greets as Todd pulls up and leans his bike against the side of the house. Todd smiles at him.

“Good morning, Alfie. Got anything for me?” He asks as he stretches. Alfie nods enthusiastically.

“Sure do.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a stack of mail, a few bills and some advertisements. He hands them to Todd, who thanks him.

“Want some coffee? It’s awfully cold for a Virginian, I guess.” Todd offers with a quirk of his lips. Alfie does a full belly laugh. 

“I ‘preciate your concern, Mr. Anderson, but I’m ‘fraid I have something quite important to give to the mayor. I’ll be seeing you, though. Call if you need a friend.” And with that, he trots back down the hill and into town. Todd watches him until he can’t see him anymore, then heads inside.

He sheds his coat and kicks off his shoes, then runs upstairs to shower. He’s grateful for his regained quiet. It’s everything he knew it would be. Once he’s finished showering, he throws on an extra sweater and sits down at the breakfast table to skim through the mail.

Lighting bill, gas bill, and a small collection of local advertisements. His lighting and gas are lower than they were the month before, which gives Todd a small sense of pride, especially since it’s cold and he gets more lenient in the winter. In the local ads, he finds an ad for the grocer, one for a town meeting held at Sadie’s hotel, and a new variety of pastries that would soon be for sale at the bakery. He leans back in his chair and turns around to stick it on the fridge. Finally, his--oh. It’s not a bill, and instead, a letter. 

From no other than Neil Perry.

The contents of the letter are as follows:

_Todd_. (This all is in Neil’s hand.) 

_I’ve been trying to write this letter for months. My life seems to be simultaneously falling apart and building itself up from ashes, but it’s hard to let it coexist. I’ve been working on my writing, and I’d like you to know I’m very proud of that sentence. I hope you are too._

_Todd._

_I’m sorry. I know the way you work. At this point, I think I know you better than anyone else in the world. But that doesn’t matter, because I know this entire thing is going to throw you into a state of panic, but I’m begging you to read it. If you don’t, I really don’t know what I’ll do, because it’s all the answers you’ve wanted for the past eight years._

_Todd Anderson._

_I love you._

_You know this. You have to know it. I meant to tell you, but it turned out you weren’t there. That was a mess in itself, but what is done is done. I don’t know where you went, and I’m not angry at you. I was, but I know why you ran, because you love me too. That’s the only conclusion that makes sense. I know you. You wouldn’t have run if you didn’t love me, because even as your friend, I know you care about me. If you found out and didn’t reciprocate, there would be no letter. There would be no grace period, nor a game of hide and seek that has spent it’s last dime. I would have carried on with my wife, and you would have carried on in Virginia, and bygones would remain bygones until I either visited you, or died._

_But there is a letter. So, evidently, I know you._

_Sara is gone. It pains me every day that I do not wake up with her beside me. I love her, too, but differently. I think I love everyone differently. I know I love you the most._

_I don’t care how you love me back. I don’t care if you never reply. I don’t care if you come to me, arms open, wanting. I don’t care if you move and don’t tell me, or anyone, and live by yourself for the rest of your life. I just need you to know all of this, because if I don’t tell you right now I’m going to explode._

_Do not worry; I’m not a danger to myself. No one holds any real power over me anymore (except you, of course). No one, truly, can tell me what to do, or where to be._

_My green house is lonely. There is no more bright laughter. There is jazz, but it is sour. There is bread, but it is bought, not baked. I miss Sara, but I long for you. You are all music, and you are all food, and you are all feelings, and you are all words. You are the universe. The world, the planets, they must revolve around you. If they refuse to do so, I will beat them into submission. They must._

_I’m sorry. I don’t mean to overwhelm you. You understand why I’ve sent this now._

_I said I don’t care if you write me back, but I wouldn’t mind it._

_Todd Anderson?_

_I love you. With you, I breathe._

_Yours,_

_Neil Perry_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehe >:)
> 
> fear not!! this is not the end of this universe. but for now, it's what i give you. please tell me what you thought, i've never written anything this big before!!

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey update!!! *confetti* that was gross lol anyways!! hope you enjoyed :)) it's gonna get Exciting in the next couple chapters. i'm.......very excited to see the response and i kinda wanna crank out the next chapter right now but...we shall see ;) lmk what you think!!! comments and kudos are so greatly appreciated!!!


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